


Wither Thou Goest

by the_gates_of_sleep



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, But this is AO3 so like, Dominance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, Graphic Description, Happy Ending, Here Thar Be Sexing, How many smut tags can there be?, Look there's going to be a lot of sex in this one, M/M, Multi, One Big Happy Family, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Rough Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Submission, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:30:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_gates_of_sleep/pseuds/the_gates_of_sleep
Summary: After the Breach has been healed and the Inquisition disbanded, Inquisitor Kore Lavellan and Cullen Rutherford have semi-retired to a small estate on the edge of the Emerald Graves where they hope to build a refuge for all. But their idyll contains a touch of bitterness: a longing for the lover they both miss.Dorian Pavus never thought he would find a love like Cullen, much less one shared with his greatest friend and staunchest defender, Inquisitor Lavellan. But duty called him back to Tevinter in a desperate attempt to bring redemption to his homeland.When the three lovers are reunited once more, will they be able to build again?





	Wither Thou Goest

She dreamt of death. In all shapes and forms. Death that shambled in the rune of a racking cough. The keen sharp death from a blade. Burning death. Drowning death. The broken cackling of Blight death. They advance towards her across a broken plain. Jagged and incomprehensible. A dreamscape, beyond reality and all the more terrifying for it.

The voice of Nightmare calls her. "A death for a death, little Inquisitor. I've brought you so many to choose from."

Kore runs, sprinting over rocks and brambles that spring up from the very earth to trap her. She throws fire and spark at them, so fast and thick that her wake is nothing but flame, smoke, and the howls of her pursuers.

She has escaped Nightmare before. Watched him die. (If anything in the Fade can truly be said to feel death.) She will not diminish Warden Stroud's sacrifice by being caught now.

Green Fade-fire joins her flame and the howls rise even higher. In the distance she sees a portal. A small mirror, she knows it for the one that stands in her own real bedroom.

Dream winds, those that pollinate the Fade with thought and emotion and all of the mortal detritus that builds its infinite fields, rise up. The flames spread to the horde behind her and the night is filled with screams.

Her heart feels as if it will burst, her limbs burn. Kore runs faster.

Light glints from the silver edge of the mirror.  _ Home. _

She drags air through her lungs, pushes her thin legs so hard they barely touch the ground. 

_ She promised she would come home.  _

The ground in front of her explodes. Dark legs emerge from the dark, viscous slime hanging from the flailing chitinous limbs. Shining bodies follow behind. Things eyes on eyes and hissing gaping maws. Kore recoils instinctively. 

She spins her stave, its bladed edge towards the creature, and begins the movement of a spell. The air around her snaps and crackles as she draws the shape of the working. The scent of her magic, crushed juniper leaves and snow, pushed back the stench of decay. And behind it, a fainter note, of sunlight and steel. Templar power reworked at the hand of a mage. 

This spell should not exist. But she and her Templar are used to breaking rules together. 

Form manifests as blue and white light arcing through the sky. It builds around her, interlocking circles build from an infinity of glowing runes. Her stave cuts the air. 

_ Not today, you bastard.  _

The rings explode outward. Light cuts through demon flesh and carapace. The beasts scream with the rasp of a hurricane wind. 

Kore runs through the gap she has made for herself, feet splashing through puddles of steaming gore. 

She is a handspan away from the portal. 

“Wait, little Inquisitor-no-longer.” The oil slick voice of the demon calls her. 

She should not turn, but she does. 

The mountain known as Nightmare emerges from the black smoke and writhing horde. He is just as monstrous as she remembered. 

The vast bulk of the demon writhes into focus. Its thousandfold eyes unblinking, and in its tentacled grip something alive. Something familiar. 

_ Someone.  _

“I...have something that belongs to you.” It squelches closer to her, shedding darkling spiders with every movement. Their chittering echoes behind his words.

“ _ Two _ somethings.” 

Kore looks up at two faces, drawn in pain from the tentacles that constrict their every breath. One pale, the other olive. A pair of blue eyes, the other brown.    
  
She would die for either of them.   
  
“CHOOSE,” says the demon.

***

  
Kore wakes in bed, screaming. She is covered in sweat, her narrow body shivering. But immediately, warm arms reach around her. Holding her in comforting stillness. Cullen does not ask what she’s dreamt. He already knows. 

  
She presses her head into the side of her love’s neck, inhaling the woodsmoke and spice scent of his skin, and feels the caul of terror begin to fall away.    
  
“What do you need?” He asks. 

Kore sighs, melting even further into him. Into the implacable strength that is his core and her salvation. 

“Kiss me,” she says. 

  
He does. There is no light but the moon but his lips found hers with no hesitation. Hungry for her, as always. But controlled, in a way that only a man kept alive by the strength of his own will, could be. 

His shoulders, shaped by the raising of blade and shield, have all the give of the granite cliffs that pierce the woods outside. She clings to them, to the sensation of his skin under her fingertips, as he presses kisses along the arch of her neck. Behind, so close, so  _ knowingly _ close to the sensitive lobe of her delicately pointed ear. Before he licks one delicate arch and she nearly lifts off the bed in response. 

Kore shivers again, this time in anticipation. From the pleasure of giving in to his strength as he raises her arms above her head and pins them down. The specific and perfect delight of knowing that she cannot move and he will not let her. In knowing that as he kisses his way down her dusky breasts, pausing to suck and bite, he will make her scream and scream and will only smile. 

She falls into the ecstasy of knowing that she is  _ his _ . 

  
Cullen's beard is rough against her breasts. His lips soft and wet when he presses kisses around a dark aureola. The delicious bite of pain from his teeth against her nipple, makes her squirm. Her small moan makes Cullen laugh softly. A dark sound from the back of his throat. A cruel laugh that makes her as wet as his kisses.   
  
He can hold her still with one hand, and does. Moving his other down between her dark legs, parting them roughly, and dipping one thick finger into her wetness. 

  
"Please," she begs. 

  
He says nothing. His mouth is full of her small, ripe, breast. His fingers are scarred and rough and so very big. One, then two, slide into her hot cunt. Guided by the wetness spilling down her thighs.   
  
Cullen is man made of his experiences. She knows this. Knows that at the center of his soul he is a Templar, and he was built to perform devotion.   
  
He will. He does.   
  
There is nothing she can say, outside of the word they have agreed between them means an end to any games, that will make him stop. Not until her body and mind understand his dedication to her.   
  
A last bite at her nipple, sends sparks of pleasure down her body towards her aching pussy. He kisses his way down her stomach slowly, making sure every inch of skin received his attention.   
  
She trembles with want. But there is nothing she can do to move him along. To give her what she wants. The hot thick length of him, driving into her over and over. She will get what she gives him, when he decides to give it. But her body pines.  
  
He kisses the very edge of her mound. Letting go of her arms, he hooks his hands under her thighs, pulling her cunt so close to his face she can feel the heat of his breath against her most delicate skin.   
  
His eyes, glacially blue, shine even in the darkness. She can see him, poised above her clit. His dear face sharpened with the commanding wickedness that had her so often on her knees. He is so close to her mound, the words he utters are felt in every nerve, pushing her closer to that delicious edge. But not close enough.   
  
"If you make a sound," Cullen says in his lust-thickened voice, "you don't get what you want."   
  
Yes. Yes! She can do anything as long as he moves closer. Just close enough to touch. A breath. A kiss. A lick would make her break apart.

But she lies.   
  
"I won't," she says.   
  
Sweetly, for her Cullen. Her Cullen who has her so firmly pinned down she couldn't move even if the roof were on fire. Her Cullen who can do whatever he wants to her but _oh please please if he would just put his mouth on her.   
  
_  
His mouth is hotter than any hell, and more perfect than any dream. He licks her in long strokes, face pressed deeply into her like a starving man coming upon a feast.   
  
  
Kore's scream is barely muffled by her own hands.   
  
  
He knows, oh how well and with such love, her curve of her flesh and every sensitivity. Every lick to the underside of her clit, every suckle at that bud, every lave against her hot sweet entrance is calculated to pull the moans out of her that he _knows_ are there. Her cunt is a familiar and beloved landscape.  
  
She begins to feel the beginning of tremors deep in her center, the pleasure so strong and unforgiving that she tries to pull away only to meet the dead end of Cullen's implacable resistance. He holds her down as she begins to shake.   
  
Slowly he adds another finger into her, rubbing firmly against the spot he knows is there.   
  
Kore shatters with a scream of pure pleasure. Her hands bunched into the sheets as if trying to hold on for dear life.   
  
Her orgasm beats inside of her and Cullen continues mercilessly. His tongue and fingers drawing out the pleasure until Kore does not know where her body ends and the pleasure begins. She is simply alight with it.   
  
Quickly, he retreats and is once again looming over her. His kiss captures the last of her cries and tastes of her salt and honey.   
  
  
Even in the cum-addled fog she can see the satisfaction in his eyes. She can feel the heat and weight of his erection pressed between them. It is wet with pre-cum. With a tilt of his hips he slides the silky essence over belly, almost as if he is impatient too. To be inside of her, desperate and wanting.   
  
But his voice and expression show only iron control.  
  
"I told you not to make a sound," he says.   
  
Her eyes go wide. This is the game. And her body, her body _believes_.   
  
  
She moves her legs to his sides without complaint. Soft and pliable in the aftermath of her first orgasm.   
  
  
Cullen slips the head of his cock over her clit. Rubbing himself through her wetness. He enters her slowly. Controlled.   
  
It feels like heaven. Him parting her. Feeling the hot hard length of him rub against every inch of her cunt, that tries to pulse around him. But he is so big, so perfect. Her hips rise up to meet his as sheathes himself in her completely.   
  
Kore can feel him, hot and slick and felt near to bursting.   
  
She opened her eyes, not knowing when she'd closed them. Cullen looked down at her. Her love. Scarred and handsome and stalwart.   
  
He smiles and slams one scarred hand over her mouth before driving into her.   
  
Every thrust pulls pleasure from inside of her. She opens her legs wider to meet him. She wants him deeper, deeper. Holds the firm globes of his ass to pull him down into her harder. Let him break her down until there is nothing left. The pleasure will tear her apart and that is all she wants. Him and the feeling of him inside her driving her over the edge into oblivion.  
  
She cannot make a sound, her sighs and screams are lost to the strength of his hand. But she can hear him. The sweet and profane groans of the pleasure he is plundering from her core.   
  
"Maker, love."   
  
"Oh god, I love you."   
  
Over and over until it becomes a prayer. And she is lifted by it. And by the sweet pressure of his dick, and the finger he rubs just right against her clit. Until she comes again, collapsing like the heart of a star.   
  
And he falls right over the edge with her. With a roar and a curse. 

He spills himself deep into her, the sensation of it pusher her deeper into her pleasure.   
  
Nothing but the golden bliss of it rolling over her.

  
They quiet into sighs and kisses. Cullen holds her, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her back. Kore drifts, warm and content.   
  
Cullen's arms are the alpha and omega of her universe and she could no more imagine anything beyond them, than she could grow wings and fly.   
  
She calms, resting her head against his chest. Listening to the beat of his heart, she drifts asleep.   
  
  
There are no more bad dreams. 

  
In the morning Kore wakes first, as always. Her templar is not a morning person. Cullen sleeps deeply under their down blanket. 

_Deep enough to miss a second Breach_, Dorian once joked.    
  
She pushes away the memory. But not quickly enough to dull its sting. She shakes her head and sighs ruefully. Some broken things took longer to mend, she supposed.  
  
  
A kiss on Cullen’s cheek, and she is up and out of bed. Ready to greet the dawn out among the trees.    
  
By the time Cullen wakes, with a stretch and a satisfied smile, Kore is already deep into the woods. Moving the way only a Dalish could, with the branches as her road, and every tree her highway. 

  
And neither of them knowing what comes their way.   



End file.
